by Kate Douglas
Madness. Insanity.
This was why she’d crept out of his apartment and run like hell after their night together. Her reaction was too intense, pulled her in too deep, until she felt like she was drowning in it. And she had no desire to rescue herself, just to let herself go and hold on to him forever. That wasn’t how she liked her affairs, but she couldn’t deny her body liked him too much.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she hid the fact that her nipples had tightened to points. Merek’s gaze followed the motion, the gleam in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what she’d done and why. She licked her lips, and he stared at them, his expression as hungry as it had been the last time he’d pulled her under him, mounting her to slide his cock into her wet sex.
She sucked in a deep breath, struggling for calm, and more of his tantalizing scent came to her. The buzz of the people around her, the hum of magic moving through the air, faded until there was nothing and no one but him. If she took a step forward, she’d be able to feel the heat of his body, two steps and she’d be in his arms again.
The officer on her right spoke, breaking through her daze. He gestured toward a hall off the main room. “We were just escorting Dr. Standish to—”
“I’ll take it from here.” A slim woman with a badge and a gun clipped to her belt walked up and nodded to the men. She glanced at Chloe. “I’m Detective Selina Grayson. If you’ll follow me.”
Merek blinked, and the fiery passion was gone, replaced by a remote, professional coldness that sliced through her like a razor blade. She shook herself, felt that same iciness stiffen her spine.
Forcing herself to think of something—anything—else, Chloe focused on Selina’s face. What kind of Magickal was this woman? An elf, or maybe a fairy. She had the right bone structure for either race. Chloe tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, opening her senses a bit. Fae, witches, and elves all vibrated with magic, like the same song hummed in three different pitches. Vampires hissed like the low, ominous quiver of a rattlesnake’s tail. Werewolves were a deep rumble, a subvocal growl that made prey freeze before a dangerous predator. The detective sounded more like an elf than a Fae, but sometimes it was difficult to tell.
Maybe other Magickals sensed it differently, but since Chloe’s skills revolved around clairaudience, she heard the differences between the species. Someone with telemetry might have to touch to know. A clairvoyant or someone who sensed auras might be able to tell with a single glance. She’d never asked anyone else about it, but maybe she should. She wondered if any empirical studies had been done on the subject, and her mind began to ponder the scientific anomalies of divergent magical powers.
Selina cleared her throat, wrenching Chloe’s wayward attention back to the present. “Dr. Standish, if you’ll follow me. Now.”
Flushing, she ignored the strange looks Merek and the officers gave her. Merek’s presence flustered her more than it should. Turning, she scurried toward the hallway Selina indicated, escaping Merek and the feelings he generated within her with a mere look. Just as she had the night they’d met.
Twenty minutes later, Chloe stared down at a cracked Formica table until the ugly gold flecks began to blur before her eyes. Air-conditioning kicked on and cooled the already frigid room. Goose bumps raced over her skin, and she couldn’t fight the chill with a spell because this room had been warded against the use of magic. It made her nerves jangle even more. This couldn’t be happening. It could not be happening.
Even worse, she knew she focused on her physical discomfort, her impaired magical abilities, to stop herself from thinking about Detective Merek Kingston. Kingston. She hadn’t known his last name, hadn’t known he was a cop. She hadn’t wanted to know. He was supposed to be a one-night lover, a memory that became hazy almost as soon as it was over. Instead, seeing him had demonstrated exactly how clear her memories of him were, how they’d been etched into her mind with stunning clarity.
One more ugly shock for the day.
“Dr. Standish?”
She jerked a bit when the door opened and Selina walked in. “Yes?”
“Thank you for waiting.” Her brown hair swung in a layered bob around her sharply featured face, and her warm skin tone contrasted with the icy demeanor and cold, flat eyes. “I have a few questions for you.”
“So I gathered when they asked me to come down here.” Chloe’s voice came out sounding almost normal, which surprised her. Nerves made her hands quake a bit, so she curled her fingers around the Styrofoam cup of coffee one of the officers had given her. Sitting in an interrogation room was intimidating as hell, even if she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Still, her belly looped a bit. Her heart pounded in slow, painful beats as she tried not to fidget or squirm. Damien had been murdered, but she hadn’t done anything illegal, no matter what they might think. Turning his familiar into a lampshade might not have been totally aboveboard, but she hadn’t killed anyone.
The slender woman slid into a chair across from her, settling a file folder on the table between them. She didn’t look at Chloe for a few seconds, and while Chloe knew it was a ploy to set her more on edge—just as making her wait had been—she had to admit it worked.
The detective tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and the barest hint of a point showed. Elf, just as Chloe had suspected. She might have allowed herself a momentary sense of victory, but the black ice of Selina’s eyes sent pinpricks down Chloe’s spine. “What can you tell me about your relationship with Dr. Raines?”
Chloe swallowed and didn’t let her gaze waver. “We work together at Desmodus Industries. I mean . . . we worked together.” She suppressed the urge to giggle nervously, that sense of pure unreality buzzing through her mind again. “Two months ago, we broke off a two-year-long relationship.”
“Why?” Selina’s gaze sharpened, and yet Chloe didn’t think she was startled by the information, just that she was judging every word and movement Chloe made.
She clenched her teeth, knowing the answer to this question wasn’t going to get her out from under any suspicion. “He left me for another woman—a vampire. Last I heard, they were engaged, and she was pregnant.”
“Do you know the woman’s name?” The detective stroked her finger over the paperwork in front of her, and Chloe resisted the urge to try to angle for a look.
“No. I didn’t ask.” She took a breath, let it ease out, and tried to get a grip on her emotions, on the hollow feeling that opened in her belly. “I frankly didn’t want to know. He wanted out of the relationship, and when I found out why, I was more than happy to see him go. I don’t share.”
“So you were angry.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I was.” She was careful to keep her tone reasonable, to not get defensive. She had done nothing wrong—they were just ruling her out as a suspect. “Understandably, I think. That doesn’t mean I did anything to harm him.”
“His fiancée, Allesia Dawes, was also murdered.”
“Someone killed a pregnant woman?” For some reason, that stunned her even more than the idea that someone might have murdered Damien. Another level of surreal tilted her world off-axis.
Selina gave her a look that could only be described as pitying. “It isn’t the first time, Dr. Standish.”
“N-no, of course not.” Chloe took a gulp of her coffee, just to have a solid grip on something real, and burned the inside of her mouth. She winced.
The detective leveled that blank, accusing stare on Chloe, and her heart skipped a beat, sweat slicking her palms. “Can you tell me where you were at five this morning?”
Chloe sighed, closing her eyes. “I was home, sleeping. Alone.”
“I see.”
She opened her eyes to meet Selina’s gaze. “Am I going to be arrested?”
Those dark eyes were unblinking, and the detective’s slim body appeared almost relaxed in her chair, but Chloe could feel the tension running through her. “Have you done anything I should arrest you for?”
<
br /> Chloe clenched her jaw, stomping down on the unwarranted guilt that rolled through her. “No, I have not.”
“Then you’re not under arrest.”
Yet. The word hung in the air, unspoken, but both women thought it.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Her voice was deadpan, because she knew for damn sure she was still under suspicion, if not arrest. Then something occurred to her, and she felt stupid for not having thought of it before. She reached for her purse. “Damien called me this morning around the time you’re talking about. He left a message because, as I said, I was in bed, alone, sleeping.”
Flipping on the speakerphone feature, she played the message for Selina, but could tell that the woman didn’t think this ruled Chloe out of anything.
“We’re going to want a copy of that message.” The detective shifted in her seat, her gaze scanning the documents in front of her, and then she changed her line of questioning. “He mentioned a project. Can you tell me about the nature of your work with Dr. Raines?”
“We make up two of the three team leads involved in the Desmodus Werewolf Project.” The breath eased from Chloe’s lungs. This, at least, was something she could talk about without worrying. Her love life might be in constant shambles, but her career was impeccable.
Selina’s body went rigid, her eyes rising to meet Chloe’s, and for once her expression was unguarded. “The project to cure lycanthropy?”
“Not to cure it, to control it.” All too eager to talk about anything but Damien’s murder, Chloe started babbling. “At this time, wolves are compelled to Change with the full moon. Their magic fluctuates wildly with the lunar cycles. The result is an astronomical number of wolf deaths per year. As far as I know, there’d be no way to cure therianthropy, the magical disease that engenders the vampire and werewolf races. It changes their bodies on a molecular level. Regulating the worst side effects of those diseases is certainly possible, which is what I’m working on with Damien. Was working on.”
Werewolves could shift at any time, and after enough years, it became easier for them to control, but a relatively low percentage of the population survived long enough for that. Full moon was the only time they were forced to shift. It was also the only time they could turn Normals into wolves, and without the older members of a pack to control the cubs and newly Changed, they rampaged at full moon, biting as many humans as they could. Wolves and vampires who turned humans without authorization were put to death for the crime and for possibly exposing Magickals to the whole world, but only werewolves dealt with a monthly rampage. The outcome of the lycanthropy project was important to so many people, but Chloe usually managed to focus on the research in front of her. More pressure didn’t make the work go faster.
Selina was quiet for a long moment, obviously processing what she knew against what Chloe had told her. “You said two of three team leads.”
How this was related to Damien and his fiancée’s deaths, Chloe didn’t know, but she was ready to tell this woman whatever she wanted to know in order to get out of this police station. And away from any chance of running into Merek again. “Yes, the third team is lead by Dr. Ivan Nemov. His wife died during the full moon Change several years ago. She was my best friend. Their son, Alex, is my godson.”
“Sounds like this project is a personal crusade for you.” The detective tapped her fingernail against the table, her brow creased in thought. Her gaze was no less cold when she looked at Chloe.
Again, Chloe fought the urge to fidget. She took a sip of the cooling coffee, tried a warming spell, and more disquiet crawled through her as she was reminded that no magic worked in this interrogation room. “It’s very important to me, yes. It’s an obsession for Ivan. It was an intellectual pursuit for Damien.”
The table tapping continued, and Chloe heard it like an ominous drumbeat in her head. Selina’s mouth worked for a moment before she spoke, as if this questioning had gone so far off track of what she’d expected that she wasn’t entirely sure how to continue. “So, you all knew each other well. You’re close to the Nemovs, dated Dr. Raines. . . . Did Desmodus Industries know about your relationships with the other scientists?”
“Yes, and before you ask, projects like this are top secret, subject to industrial espionage, and guarded like national treasures.” Chloe sat up straight, her gaze narrowing. Security was something she took seriously with her work. Everything about her job, she took seriously. “No one working on the projects ever has all the pieces. You literally can’t sell out the company if you don’t have any secrets worth buying. In this case, I have one third of the information for the research-and-development stage of the drug.”
“What, specifically, was your role?” Selina kept tapping her finger, and the noise danced over Chloe’s ragged nerves.
“Can you stop that, please?” She gave the detective’s hand a pointed look, and Selina froze, clenching her fingers into a fist. So, she hadn’t noticed she’d been tapping. Chloe didn’t know if that should reassure her or not. She sighed. “I’m a chemist, Detective Grayson. My specialty in the Normal world of science and medicine is biochemistry. My area of expertise in the Magickal world is potions, mixing chemicals, herbs, etcetera.”
Selina hummed in her throat and looked like she wanted to start tapping again, but didn’t. “I can see why they hired you for this project.”
Might as well give her everything. Chloe didn’t want to have to come back in for another round of questioning. In fact, if she never saw the inside of a police station again, it would be just fine with her. Sweat stuck her shirt to her back, and the frigid air-conditioning made an uncomfortable situation unbearable. She wanted out of here. “I came to Desmodus Industries with this project. Damien—Dr. Raines—and I both did.”
Those dark eyes narrowed, considering. “That’s very interesting. Desmodus is controlled by the Vampire Conclave.”
Chloe shrugged. “Dr. Nemov and his wife were the foremost experts in the field of werewolf biophysics, and they’d been pushing their pack leaders to get more funding for their research for years. Dr. Jaya Nemov and I did our residency together, and when she died, I took an interest in her research. I went to Dr. Raines, who I was dating at the time, to see if he could convince his superiors that this would be a good project for them to take on.”
What had always angered Chloe was that she, a witch, had been the one to push the project through. The pack leaders should have done something long ago, should have been trying, no matter how unsuccessfully, to find a treatment instead of accepting the terrible side effects of their disease as inevitable and unchangeable. The older wolves had the most control, of their magic and of their packs, and they’d spent so long embroiled in the vampire wars that they were comfortable with their isolationist politics. It was true they had a lot on their plates training their pack members how to use their magic, how to stay alive, but they were leaders. They—not Chloe or Ivan or Jaya—should have lead the way by reaching out for help from the other Magickal races.
Even if it wasn’t the All-Magickal Council as a whole, they could have gone to the Fae’s Seelie Court, or the Elven Assembly, or the Witch Coven, or even to powerful individual families like the Standishes. Politically dangerous or not, Chloe had picked the Vampire Conclave for two reasons: they had the most money, and they had the technology and experience needed to work with Magickal diseases. Desmodus Industries had patented a serum vamps drank to manage their need to feed. They still sucked blood, but it helped them in a way that Chloe hoped her formula would help werewolves.
Selina frowned. “It seems odd that a vampire would be willing to go to bat for a werewolf project, even if he was sleeping with you.”
Yeah, no kidding.
Chloe fought the urge to snort. It was like being hard-core conservative and screaming liberal in the Normal world. The two sides just never met. There was no common ground between them, and any ground they’d ever shared was blood-soaked from feuding. Except for the obvious abilities instill
ed by a Magickal virus, the cultures that had developed for each species were diametrically opposed.
The project Chloe had initiated was the first time, for as long as their very long records spanned, that they had set aside their differences for any reason. That someone working on the project had been murdered was bad for more than just Damien. If this project crumbled, it could put the two races at loggerheads. It would drag other races into the mix. It would just be bad for everyone. No, scratch bad, it would be catastrophic.
A sardonic smile curved her lips. “It wasn’t the sex that convinced Damien. I appealed to his ego. Imagine not only the prestige of being on the team that broke through this formula, but the accolades afforded to someone making peacekeeping strides for the whole Magickal world.”
The detective blinked. “Sounds too good to be true.”
Chloe flicked dismissive fingers. “It’s the same argument Damien used to convince his superiors, to convince the Conclave. My aunt and I convinced the rest of the Council, including the werewolf pack leaders, to back the project.”
“Your aunt.” It was obvious Selina knew who Chloe was related to. Then again, you couldn’t be Magickal in Seattle and not know the Standish name. They’d helped settle Magickals in America back in colonial days and had come West during the gold rush. There’d been a Standish on the All-Magickal Council in this city since the day the Council was founded. “Mildred Standish.”
“Aunt Millie, yes. She’s actually my great-great aunt, but she doesn’t like to be reminded of that.” For the first time, Chloe relaxed. No matter how bad this got, Millie would always be there to help her. The Standish family stood together against outsiders, and Millie led the local coven and represented the witch race on the Council. She had more than enough clout to fix any mess. A sigh eased past Chloe’s lips, and she surreptitiously wiped her clammy palms off on her skirt.
Selina’s gaze swept over her again, assessing and reassessing. “You’re quite the mover and shaker.”